


Play It Again. And Do It Right This Time

by jojothecr



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Written in 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojothecr/pseuds/jojothecr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melancholy and Tequila were always a dangerous combination. But melancholy, Tequila and <em>Jared</em>... well, that was just somewhere between plain stupid and pure sadomasochism...</p><p>Feedback is appreciated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play It Again. And Do It Right This Time

Tying the towel around his waist, Jensen walks out of the bathroom and steps across the threshold, almost jumping straight out of his skin at the curse coming from the other end of his bedroom. “Shit!”  
“Holy--!” Jensen echoes automatically before the initial shock subsides and he realizes that he’s still fairly safe.

It’s not like he needs to see to know. Nor like there can actually be someone else there, or like he doesn’t know the voice, but he still pulls the glasses out of his wet hair and puts them on. “Jared... Damn, man, you scared the crap outta me!”

Jared, shockingly, doesn’t say anything else. He’s just leaning against the closed door of Jensen’s room like he’s been fossilized there; arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on Jensen, mouth partly open.

"Ehm… Jared?” Jensen tries, snapping his fingers to break Jared’s unwavering stare. The guy doesn’t even blink.

Jensen tilts his head to the side, looking back at Jared and only now noticing that Jared’s not staring at him, precisely. Not into his eyes or anywhere close to, but at his bare stomach, and possibly lower.  
Jensen’s eyebrow quirks, completely of its own will, and he feels a sudden, embarrassing urge to put some clothes on, to wear at least one more layer. Which is kinda funny, given the many times Jared’s seen him half or completely naked before. By accident, of course. Usually. Still, he feels uncomfortable, especially now; too small and too skinny, nowhere near as ripped as Jared, no protruding tendons or veins, no rock hard belly.

Sighing, Jensen scratches at his temple thoughtfully, chasing away the drops of water that still trickle from his hair, and moves towards Jared, determined to cut off this awkwardness. And then get some caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine. And, some time in between that, also find some clothes.

“Jared? Dude, you okay?” Jensen waves his hand in front of Jared’s face, starting to wonder whether Jared’s maybe sleepwalking. Or just playing another of his prank crap. Which is more than probable. And so much more Jared-like. “Hey!”

Jared jerks with fright, and Jensen startles in response. “What?!”

“What _what_?! ? I thought… you wanted something?”

“N-no,” Jared stammers and blinks, looking utterly puzzled.

And if it wasn’t so fucking unusual and therefore also kinda creepy, Jensen would probably laugh. He’s fairly sure that he is, supposedly, the one with slower accelerating period in the mornings.

Jared’s eyes slide from Jensen’s navel to his chest, so slow Jensen would swear he can actually feel them, and up, finally meeting Jensen’s gaze. Then he stutters anew. “No… I mean, y-yes, I… wanted… something.”

“Jeez, a little more coherency there, would you?”

“You’re beautiful.”

And, alright, that might have been coherent enough, but this time Jensen’s not sure he heard it right.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful.” Jared repeats. His voice is quiet, slightly amazed, but still composed; like he’s ordering pizza, and not, evidently, trying to freak Jensen the fuck out.

If Jensen takes a step back when Jared pulls from the door, well, he can’t really help it.

“And I knew…” Jared says, moving forward until he’s close enough to touch.

 _Please, don’t…_

Jensen wants to run. All of a sudden, he just wants to flee. Get away from there. From Jared. From the look in his eyes, the heat in there that he’s seen just once before, months ago. But he doesn’t even stir. He just stands there, nailed to the spot by his own weakness. By Jared’s gaze, his proximity. By the memories he swore were gone. Forgotten.

“…Always knew.”

Jensen’s heartbeat skyrockets when Jared reaches out, following the line leading in between Jensen’s ribs and down to his belly, like a blind man mapping the space in front of him. Jared’s fingers don’t linger, don’t even brush his skin, but Jensen trembles nevertheless, feels goose bumps rise in the invisible trace Jared draws. He looks up, regretting it the very next second when he catches Jared’s stare, no longer hazel or bluish, but dark brown, almost black.

“That’s why that night happened.” Jared goes on, holding Jensen’s gaze as he leans in, his lips inches from Jensen’s. He drops his eyes to Jensen’s mouth, runs his tongue over his bottom lip, before looking up again, and Jensen feels like screaming. Or crying. With how much he wants to slip his fingers in Jared’s wild hair, pull him closer, and crush their mouths together, taste him again. Re-learn the hollows and dips of his mouth. He closes his eyes instead, wishing Jared would somehow magically disappear. But Jared’s still there, and so is his voice; thick and dangerous, washing over Jensen like a tide. “That’s why I kissed you. Why we…”

“Had sex?” Jensen offers when Jared trails off, for a dramatic pause, hardly more than that, and he opens his eyes again.

He wants to congratulate himself for even being able to follow the path of Jared’s words. For saying it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, even though his heart threatens to burst through his ribcage, leaping forward with want. Even when the words sound so surreal.

Jared nods and for a moment, a split second, he looks a little less self-confident, almost guilty. “Yes.”

“I thought it was a mistake.” Jensen reminds him as he risks a few more steps backwards, willing his tone to stay calm, cold, or at least neutral. It’s been a while, after all. And he’s over it.

Only he isn’t. He’s not over Jared, and, looking at him now as he just stands there – bouncy from the walk with his dogs and fresh from the shower, all the muscles unfolded, lined beneath the tight T-shirt, eyes deep and warm, sort of _knowing_ , and those damn dimples – he doesn’t think he’ll ever be. Jared knocked him down when he was least expecting it and he’s still kind of shattered and bruised.

“Too much Vancouver and way too much Tequila.”

 

 _There was a party on the set, a celebration. Tears and laughter, regrets and joy. Some were leaving; another important or significant characters dying, blinding into the rush of the everyday life the brothers were leaving behind. Some staying for another season that had just been confirmed. A rollercoaster of emotions transferring from the writers’ pages, from the moments in front of the cameras behind, to the cast and crew._

 _When they finally arrived home, tired beyond the point of falling asleep and emotionally drained, far more than just happily tipsy, and Jared got a_ brilliant _idea to open a bottle of Tequila, Jensen knew he was screwed up. He knew, or should have known, but he was always kinda clueless when it came to Jared._

 _Melancholy and Tequila were always a dangerous combination. But melancholy, Tequila and_ Jared… _well, that was just somewhere between plain stupid and pure sadomasochism._

 _Jared was overfriendly by nature, but when he was slightly drunk, he would be more like a damn octopus; hugging everyone and anyone, anything, wanting to touch and be touched, petted like a puppy. Jensen got used to having Jared’s head in his lap, running his fingers through the long, dark curls and massaging Jared’s scalp. Rubbing his back or stroking his arm until Jared would be purring like a damn cat. It never meant anything; Jared would turn into a pliable mush of ah, right there and oh, don’t stop in the hands of anyone, and Jensen knew all that. Well._

 _But when Jared kissed him, lips wet and hot, and tasting like Tequila parted upon Jensen’s, Jensen was completely unprepared for that kind of action, and temporarily shocked to the marrow of his bones._

 _It was a brief touch, almost innocent, but enough to make Jensen’s heart jump somewhere up into his throat. He stared up at Jared, and kept on staring, unable to process what had just happened. Because one moment he had been tipping the glass to his lips, his knee bouncing to the rhythm of the commercial song for Godknowswhat running on the TV, which was pretty silly and annoying, but at the same time kinda catchy, and in the next minute he had his friend’s hand cupping his cheek, thumb sliding over his mouth, catching on his bottom lip._

 _When Jared leaned in again, with clear intention as to what he did, Jensen realized that he was still holding the almost-empty glass, clutching it so tightly he could hear the liquid splashing along the walls as his hand shook. He thought he could hear it anyway, but it could have been absolutely anything. Too stunned to do much more, he watched in slow motion and almost like an out-of-body-experience as Jared’s face, his lips, came closer. Jared’s eyes were dark, cloudy with the late hour, yet sparkling with something mischievous, and promising. Of what, Jensen wasn’t quite sure._

 _But Jared was taking too long, his movements were too slow, his hot breath fanning over Jensen’s mouth too much of a promise than a real touch, and Jensen had just about enough of the waiting and teasing._

 _Shifting a bare inch forward, he put his hand at the nape of Jared’s neck, erasing the gap in between them and meeting Jared halfway. Which was apparently exactly what Jared wanted, because the second their lips touched, he grabbed for the glass in Jensen’s hand and, wrenching it out of his vice-tight grip, put it onto the table next to his. Then he pushed Jensen against the backrest of the couch and crawled partly over him, crushing him even more into the cushion._

 _Jared’s thigh was burning against Jensen’s, scorching even through the two layers of denim in between them, and he was heavy, but Jensen was so caught up in the contact, in Jared’s heat, he hardly registered it at all. When the tip of Jared’s tongue pressed against Jensen’s lips, seeking the chink in between and insistently nudging its way inside, Jensen let out something between a choked sigh and an embarrassing whimper. As he parted his lips, letting Jared in, and his hand shifted from Jared’s knee higher, Jared made a noise very similar to Jensen’s. Only there was nothing embarrassing about it. It was just as sexy as hell._

 _°  
Jared’s palm was like a furnace, and big, as it shifted over Jensen’s chest, copying the ridges of his ribs and the slope to his stomach, travelling down and down, agonizingly slow. Jensen’s entire body was burning, vibrating with want and need, his brain unable to follow, to catch up, but mixing in nevertheless, saying, _‘Don’t’. _And_ ‘Stop’. _And_ ‘Bad.Bad.Bad’, _while Jared whispered words like_ , “It’s okay… Relax… Let go.”

 _And how was Jensen supposed to say no, to even_ think _no, when Jared’s warm, wet tongue was circling the inner swirl of his ear, making every single hair on his body stand up, and his long, slender fingers kept slipping lower, over Jensen’s navel and through coarse hair, heading just_ right there _?_

 _Jensen meant to stop him. Stop them. He was fairly sure that that was what he was aiming for when his fingernails dug in Jared’s shoulder, no doubt bruising even through the cotton of his T-shirt, and his other hand rested atop Jared’s, halting him. Instead he moaned helplessly, and his hips jerked, bucking up into Jared’s touch; pleading and betraying how much Jensen wanted._

 _Because he_ wanted. Had _wanted for some time. A while that tasted just like a moment, and one lifetime at the same time._

 _°  
Jensen had been used to looking. To watch the rippling of all those muscles stretching beneath the soft, tanned skin, forgetting to bench press, run, _breathe, _just staring_ , gaping.

 _Now he could feel and touch, press his hand against the taut muscles and sense them quiver beneath his fingertips. Could press his lips against Jared’s skin, baby soft and hot, and leave a trail of feather-like kisses from his collarbone down to the denim barrier of Jared’s pants, making the other man shiver and moan. Jared’s not so quiet pleads, his scent and warmth filled up Jensen’s senses, overpowered them, and Jensen was lost. Lost and insane with want and, ‘Need you. Right. Now.’_

 _°  
Jared’s body was beautiful, like a metaphor for sin, but if that was the only attractive thing on this guy, Jensen’s life would be apparently too easy. Of course Jared had to be also damn good looking in general, funny, and probably the sweetest guy Jensen had ever met. He was a goofball, cracking jokes and constantly planning pranks, but he could be serious too. And he was smart; kinda the geeky, researching type, a lot like Jensen was._

 _°  
Before Jensen knew what had hit him, their positions got reversed, so his back was pressed against the couch again, and Jared’s body was like a blanket settling down upon his. Jared nudged his knee in between Jensen’s thighs, and his fingers circled Jensen’s wrists, holding them tight above his head. Jensen could feel his heartbeat pulsing in Jared’s grasp, and it wasn’t hot that Jared could do it. Could actually hold him down like that._

 _°  
There was no rhythm, no coordination, just writhing, rubbing, hips circling and rocking, driven by nothing more than a primal need for contact, friction, and release. Their tongues mimicking the motions of their bodies, until the lack of oxygen drew them apart._

 _Jensen was so caught up in watching Jared, his face, the drops of sweat rolling down his temples and glistening in the hollow of his throat, so focused at his intense, concentrated expression and the raw lust and darkness reflected in his eyes, the way his body shook all over when Jensen’s name became a prayer, a curse on Jared’s lips when he came – that his own orgasm caught him completely off guard, hit him fully and strong. His whole body tensed like a bow, muscles straining and bones protesting against the sudden pressure, and his fingers twitched in Jared’s hold, nails scratching any piece of skin they could reach. He bit onto his lip, hard, trying to mute the growl, groan, moan, whatever sound that was about to leave his mouth, tasting blood. His eyes were tight shut and when he opened them again, he blinked away a couple of tears that slid down his cheeks and over his ears. Then he just lay there, boneless and gasping for breath. La petite mort, indeed._

 _“God.” Jared breathed out, looking down at him, stunned. “Fuck, Jensen, you’re… You’ve no idea--” He struggled for words evidently, finding none, so he gave up. Instead he leaned down, taking Jensen’s mouth for a wet, deep and hard kiss that made Jensen see stars and maybe even the Milky Way as his lungs screamed for air._

 _They woke up in a tangle of limbs on Jared’s large couch. Jared with his face squashed in a pile of soft cushions and his arm plastered beneath Jensen’s stomach, and Jensen with Jared’s drool dried on his shoulder and his own denim jacket pressed to his cheek. He had an imprint of Levi Strauss & Co. tattooed bellow his eye for the whole morning._

 _Jared didn’t meet his eyes, not once. Not when he unwound himself from Jensen, allowing him to sit up and return life to his stiff bones. Not when Jensen placed two cups of steaming coffee onto the kitchen table and shifted a bowl of choco flakes and a carton of milk towards Jared._

 _Jensen wasn’t expecting a box of chocolate or a good morning kiss, nothing like that, but he wasn’t prepared for Jared’s silent treatment either._

 _“I take it we don’t talk about it,” he said eventually, unable to take the silence any longer, looking at Jared over the rim of his cup. “Well, what’s there to talk about, huh? We were drunk, celebrating… What happened, happened.”_

 _Jared lifted his eyes from the wooden table and Jensen immediately wished he hadn’t. He knew his answer before Jared even opened his mouth. Part of it anyway._

 _“I got engaged.”_

 _“Wha--at?” Jensen wheezed, choking on his own breath, because he definitely wasn’t expecting that._

 _The tiny curl of guilt that had been unfolding from the first kiss and growing bigger and bigger, finally exploded then, tainting everything. Every touch, every slide of Jared’s body, every moan that escaped into the tiny space in between their lips. Them._

 _"I asked her before the party… She said yes.” Jared sounded surprised, like he couldn’t quite believe his words either._

 _“Then why did—Why did you… Why did we...?”_

 _Jared shook his head, clueless. “I don’t know. Jensen, I really don’t. I’m sorry… But this can’t happen again.”_

 _Jensen stood up on wobbly legs, using the table to keep himself upright. “Don’t worry,” he forced out. “It won’t.” He nearly didn’t make it into the bathroom in time._

 _He was sick for the next two days – guilt gnawing on his insides like caustic.  
It wasn’t like he hadn’t known before, like he hadn’t been aware of Jared’s girlfriend, but he had also known they’d been in the middle of some crisis and talking about a break. Who knew that crisis could be cured with engagement._

 

“Mistake was believing it was just a mistake,” Jared responds, dragging Jensen back into the here and now. Back into the reality of an ordinary Sunday morning and to the fact that while Jared’s properly dressed, Jensen’s still only in the stupid towel, feeling even more naked than before. And cold on top of it. “It wasn’t… You weren’t. You could never be a mistake, Jensen.”

Jared’s voice sounds melancholy, honest, but Jensen’s not listening. He really tries to pretend he’s not listening, because he’s been there before and he doesn’t want to go back.

“You mind?” He says when he moves forward, determined to find some clothes finally, but Jared’s blocking his way and not looking like he wants to stop it any time soon. “I’d like to get dressed.”

“Don’t,” Jared whispers instead, his gaze once again sliding over Jensen’s skin like a shadow.

“Excuse me?”

“You look so good like this. The muscles suit you, Jens.”

Jensen’s not really sure, but he _thinks_ he’s blushing.

“And the blush too,” Jared smiles.

Jensen sighs, shaking his head, because this is just _unbelievable_. He’s fairly sure he’s stepped in some other, pretty twisted, universe that is making fun of him and having a great time with it.

“If I knew that, back then,” Jared starts anew, startlingly serious. “Jen, if I knew… I would have never done that.”

“Done what?!” Jensen spats, losing his patience. “And knew what?! That I loved you? That I wanted you so fucking bad I was willing, pathetic enough, to take even one night that meant nothing to you?”

 _Because he is pathetic._

“It’s not true that it meant nothing to me… It fucked me up.”

 _Well, welcome to the club._

“I tried to stay away. Be a good boyfriend… But I can’t do it anymore.”

Jensen doesn’t know what to do, where to look, what to do with his hands that seem to want just one simple thing; to touch. He winds his fingers around the bundle on his towel, twisting the rim of the damp fabric out, then back in, and once again out. And in again. He jerks when Jared’s hand covers his, then freezes when he looks up and spots the plea, the urgency in Jared’s eyes. His look is intense, penetrating.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Jared’s words sound like a confession and a reproach at once. “I had sex with her and I closed my eyes and I saw you. I wake up in the middle of the night, aching… for you.”

Jared’s finger circles Jensen’s belly button, tracing the puckered skin mindlessly, and Jensen glances down, following the distracting action that sends shivers along his spine.

“I broke up with her because I couldn’t keep lying to her. I couldn’t keep pretending that we were fine, when we weren’t. When I wanted you… Only you.”

Jensen has no idea what to say. Doesn’t think he’d be able to compile the simplest sentence even if he knew all the words of it. But Jared doesn’t look like he’s waiting for an answer anyway.

“I didn’t know you still have it.” Jared says, amused, while Jensen watches Jared’s slender fingers wrap around the guitar pick clasped on the ball chain hanging on his neck.

 _And how can Jared say all that and then go and completely change the topic?!_

“Well,” Jensen shrugs.

It was the first gift from Jared. One of the many ‘Just ‘cause.’ and ‘Why not?’ presents that were yet about to come. A black guitar pick with a silver engraving that portrays the shape of their home state and five simple letters Texas.

“It’s broken.” Jared points out, as thought Jensen doesn’t know.

It was supposed to be unbreakable, but Jared still managed to break it. He was talented like that. He bought Jensen a new one, the following day, but this one is still Jensen’s favorite. Because it was the first.

 _Because he is_ very _pathetic_.

“Guess I’m a sucker for things that don’t quite work as they’re supposed to.” Jensen replies, slipping from Jared’s grasp and to the other side of the room to gather his clothes finally.

He grabs his old, baggy jeans that are worn and partly threadbare, just comfortable enough to wear when he runs out of sweatpants and track pants, which he has, and a T-shirt that he’d swear used to be black when he had moved in Vancouver. He puts the jeans on, not bothering with underwear, because, as luck would have it, the right drawer is, again, at the opposite side of his room.

Just where Jared’s standing, looking kinda dumbstruck as he growls, “Shit, that’s hot.”

Jensen pulls the T-shirt over his head and smoothes out the creases, then drops heavily on the edge of his bed. He wonders if it’s even possible it’s still only morning. The same morning. He’s tired already, exhausted even, and he hasn’t been awake for more than one hour yet. “And?” He questions. “What do you want from me now?”

“I wanna ask you for another chance,” Jared says softly as he moves closer, until he’s crouching on the floor in front of Jensen. “I wanna ask you for… a chance.”

“Jared… I forgot, okay? I made myself forget.” _Lies. Lies. And lies. But he’s an actor, damn it, he can play the part that he’d written for himself that morning._

“No,” Jared grins and Jensen thinks he knows, can see right through him. “No, you didn’t. You wish you did. But you didn’t… You still look at me the way you did before. Before.”

“Really? And how’s that?”

“You love me. Even after what I did, you still love me… Ain’t that right?”

“What _you_ did? Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you need at least two for that?”

“But you could have thought--”

“Yeah, I _could have_ … But I haven’t. I haven’t thought anything, because I just _haven’t been_ thinking!”

Jared either doesn’t hear him, or just doesn’t listen. “Ain’t that right, Jensen?”

“No. It’s not.”

“Jensen,” Jared says patiently, “you are a brilliant actor, but I know you.”

Jensen leaps to his feet so abruptly that he grazes Jared’s knee, tipping his balance and sending him nearly right onto his ass.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Okay. Yes. Alright?! Yes, I love you! Yes, I want you! Satisfied?! What more do you want me to say?!”

Jared stands up, all calm and composed as he follows Jensen to where he’s ran away. “Yes, I’ll give us a chance,” he prompts.

Jensen heaves a tired, resigned sigh. “Alright… Say I say yes… Then what?”

Jared reaches out, offering his hand for a shake. Jensen just stupidly stares at it.

"Hi, I’m Jared.”

 _Oh, for crying out loud…_

“Jay…”

Jared arches his eyebrow, pushing his hand towards Jensen; insistent and stubborn.

Jensen rolls his eyes and sighs, but he clasps Jared’s hand, so warm and larger than his own, nevertheless. “Jensen… And I am so underdressed for this,” he complains with a not-quite-voluntary smile.

Jared grins, a brilliant flash of pearly white teeth, and grasps Jensen’s hand tighter, pulling him flush towards his body. “You’re perfect,” he assures him.


End file.
